


The Nonstalgia is Killing Me (Lead Me to the Now)

by kiranightshade



Series: My Lost Soul (Lead Me to Redemption) [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allusions to future daddy kink, Alpha Peter, Beta Derek, Blood, Blowjobs, But i dont know if i should go through with it, Clothed Sex, Come Swallowing, Couch Cuddles, Couch Sex, Deepthroating, Exabitionism, Exibitionism?, Gore, I wrote this instead of homework, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mating Bite, Nightmares, Non-Penetrative Sex, PTSD, Prequel turned actual continuation, Reunion Sex, Rutting, Scarred Peter, Shower Sex, Smut, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski is Seventeen Years Old, Werewolf Mates, is that how you spell it?, mentions of phone sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 01:28:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9796322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiranightshade/pseuds/kiranightshade
Summary: The past warns us of the future.Let me sit.Let me listen.Let me learn.And maybe we'll be alright.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'll have you know I'm completely bullshitting these titles. And I almost had the inspiration to write Alleviation and then I lost it and wrote this instead. 
> 
> Alright, comment your opinion on Derek being Peter and Stiles' baby boy????? I've only just recently gotten comfortable reading daddy kink so I'm on the fence about it.

Peter gasps awake as power like he’s never known flares to life inside him. He shifts without thought, his claws shredding the sheets and his eyes giving the dark room a red tint before he’s able to take a deep breath and shift back. He licks the blood off his lips and wonders what could have happened to cause this. Such power was his goal but the alpha Jennifer was luring wasn’t supposed to be here for a few days. He can’t have been killed by him anyway because he’d been here all night. Quickly, he sits up, frantically checking the covers and the window only to find both as they should be, clean and shut. Moonlight lights the room, mere days from fullness, from its home above the tree line and Peter yearns. He aches to go and run until he’s exhausted and full from a successful hunt. He can almost taste the meat of fresh deer just thinking about it. 

Instead, he stands and makes his way to the files Jennifer has hidden in his room. There’s no hope of him going back to sleep after this. He might as well be productive.

What he finds makes his teeth clench from the urge to shift again. He was too weak, too vulnerable to catch the lie. All of the lies that bitch thought she could get away with. His fists bleed as claws sink into his skin, but he barely notices. Too busy trying to keep his eyes from flashing on and off.

Footsteps grow louder as they echo down the hall. Peter is already blended with the shadows behind the door when Jennifer steps in, responding to his vitals no doubt. It takes her a second to realize the empty bed isn’t coupled with the open window like usual. To realize the full moon isn’t for another two days and her secrets are laying exposed on the counter. 

That second is all he needs.

Peter doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t make a sound as he uses his newfound speed to rip her throat wide open from behind. Blood sprays in a wide arch forward, coating his arms, and pools under her when he lets her fall on his bed. From her angle, she can probably see the open files and Peter is proven right when her eyes widen before her gurgling slows. Peter leans in close, breath tickling her ear “Such a disappointment.”

She may not have heard that, but it’s no matter. 

She falls limp and Peter does a visual sweep of the room. He certainly can’t stay here. Perhaps he could make it look like she was killed over him? No, that wouldn’t work. They were both killed? No, not enough blood to pull that off. And he can’t get more without being caught on camera. He’s interrupted by a sharp gasp behind him. Peter stiffens and looks behind him to see a wide-eyed boy staring at the mess, mouth gaping and mind racing. He looks stuck between reactions, like there are too many that he doesn’t know where to start. He’s obviously not a nurse, or a doctor, or even a janitor so Peter doesn’t really know what he’s doing here but that matters little at the moment. Because this boy didn’t just walk in on a murder. No, he had to walk in while Peter was still shifted. Claws and fangs could quickly be talked around in such dim lighting but glowing eyes are a little harder to bullshit. Still, such things are his specialty and never let it be said he was afraid of a challenge.

So, he puts on his most charming smile- effective even covered in blood, he knows- and is interrupted before he could even get a word in.

“Why?”

Does this idiot have no common sense? You’re supposed to run away from the murder scene, not stand there asking questions. Still, Peter supposes there’s no harm in having a little fun. He’s pretty enough to humor for the moment. 

Maybe becoming alpha is affecting his judgment more than he thought.

Nevertheless, he walks over to the boy, grace and power resonate in every footstep, and doesn’t resist the urge to scrape his claws down the boy’s cheek- gently, of course- and keep his jaw still with the tips of his claws. Like this, the boy cannot escape his gaze. Though he makes no sign that he wishes to do so- aside from the initial cringe of blood drying on his cheek- and isn’t that interesting? “Does there have to be a reason? You don’t know me. I could be a monster.”

“There’s always a reason. Even if that reason is power.”

Peter is beginning to like this boy. The way he doesn’t just meet his gaze but holds it. Like a statement, like a dare. Peter grins, and this one is honest and pleased. “She wasn’t a good nurse.”

Most wouldn’t accept that answer. Would accuse him of insanity or psychopathy or monstrosity. This boy though, this boy who- now that Peter really looks at him- is rather charming in a certain light. There’s a mole right beneath his left ear that Peter very much wants to be acquainted with. And he does fit rather nicely in his hands. 

“What are you?” the boy asks next. Peter doesn’t smell an ounce of fear on him and this is getting more interesting by the second. He looks into the boy’s eyes and sees nothing but honest curiosity.

They’ve wandered far enough into the room that Peter is able to nudge the boy back against the door, kicked closed in the process. He settles in closer to the boy, just barely touching chest to chest, with his right hand resting on his hip, caging the boy in. Just because he doesn’t see ill intent doesn’t mean it’s not there. Jennifer can be a testament to that and Peter isn’t one for repeating mistakes.

The boy gasps but still no fear. No racing heart. No rapid breaths. Just calm curiosity.

Peter can always kill him later. No harm in indulging him further.

“I’m the big bad wolf and I’ve been starved for far too long.” Peter lets his voice dip to the deep tremor often reserved for his seductions. He adds in a dash of the melody he used to use when telling bedtime stories and continues “Do you think someone as delectable as you could satiate my hunger?”

The boy gulps at the implication but still no fear. Not that Peter would harm him in such a way but he wouldn’t have any way of knowing that. 

If he were invited however- 

“That would depend entirely on what you were hungry for.”

Peter’s grin shows much sharper teeth this time. He drops his head so that he can run his nose up the boy’s neck, breathing in loudly. The boy tenses for a moment but Peter thinks it was from surprise more than anything else. 

The boy has a wonderful scent. Once he manages to find it beneath the layers of come, sweat, drugs, and general mess of other people. It’s sharp and present but only once he was looking for it and isn’t that delightful. He finds himself hovering over that damned mole under the boy’s ear and can’t help nipping at it once before backing away. He lets the boy go and takes a few steps back., enjoying the sight of him pliant and dazed against the door like he is. Peter answers “A little company would be nice. Wolves are social creatures after all.”

“Huh- oh, right.” Stiles shakes his head and straightens up from where he’d been leaning against the door. 

“So, what’ll it be? My head can be a very dangerous place and I’d rather not get stuck in it.”

The boy snorts. But then footsteps are coming down the hall and his eyes widen in panic. Peter himself is internally cursing because he should have been long gone by now. He’s in the middle of calculating the odds of taking the boy out and getting away when the boy himself starts giving him some frantic set of hand movements that seem to indicate he should go out the window. He’s whisper shouting at him now. Telling him to “Go.” “Get out of here.” 

Peter grins at the boy, halfway out the window, and asks “Care to give a wayward murderer your name?”

“Ohmygod. It’s Stiles. Now go!” Stiles pushes him the rest of the way out and starts screaming nonsense just in time for the door to be thrown open. Peter grunts as he lands in some bushes, laying still as he can until the nurse finishes his sweep of the tree line. He breaks into a sprint as soon as his boy keeps their attention, fully shifting for the first time once the trees thicken enough to hide him. 

Stiles. The name is just as interesting as the bearer, just as captivating as his scent and Peter can’t wait for them to meet again.

 

*** 

 

“You don’t waste any time, do you?”

“I could leave. Wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Stiles laughs in disbelief, like the idea that he wouldn’t want him to be uncomfortable is surreal. “No, please. Make yourself comfortable.” Stiles plops backwards onto his bed and drags a hand down his face. Groaning, he says “I lied to my dad yesterday. Why did I lie to him?”

Peter’s fond smile goes unseen. “Beats me.” Peter answers the not-question from where he’s lounging in the desk chair. “For all you know, I could be here to tie up loose ends.”

“You’re not.”

“Oh?”

“If you were going to kill me, you would’ve done it by now.” Stiles supports himself by the elbows and looks at Peter when he says “How do you know I haven’t had a moment of clarity and the entire sheriff’s department is just outside?”

“If you were going to turn me in, you would’ve done it already.” Peter parrots with a grin on his face. “But why did you help me? I may not have hurt you, but I’ve never given you any reason to trust me either.”

“I lose any and all sense of self-preservation when I get curious.”

Peter raises his eyebrow.

Stiles sits up, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and asks “Why wasn’t she a good nurse? What exactly are you? Could a cell even hold you? And why were you luring your niece here?”

Peter laughs “So you do know who I am. I assume you have those files as well?”

“Kind of hard not to, considering I was caught in your room the way I was. And they’re over there.” Stiles points to the files that are in a stack of other papers. Peter had overlooked it before, but he supposes that was the point.

Peter hums in appreciation. Such a clever boy. “Am I to expect more help in the future?”

“You planning on killing more people?”

“Only those that deserve it. I assure you.”

“Is this the part where you actually answer my questions?”

“If you like.”

Stiles doesn’t say a word until Peter finishes.

Once he does, Stiles asks one question.

“Is this company your seeking sexual?”

Peter leers but answers “Only if you want it to be.”

 

*** 

 

Stiles grins when he sees his alpha enter the house soundlessly. Kate seems to take it as proof she’s adopted a baby hunter, an in to the alpha.

Stiles finds it oddly poetic, that she would bleed out at the scene of her crimes.

She doesn’t get the chance to spout more of her poison. Before Stiles can blink, Peter is pulling her back against him, claws at her throat and her stomach. 

Stiles acts the fearful teenager because never let it be said he plays a part halfway. He babbles apologies and desperate excuses as to why he would betray him but he is paid no mind.

That’s okay. It’s only a precaution anyway.

The truth is he wants to laugh at how well their plan is playing out. At how Kate remains stubborn even while utterly helpless. 

Stiles drops the act when she falls, bleeding and lifeless. He feels a sense of accomplishment. Sees it mirrored in Peter’s satisfied grin. 

Stiles stares at Kate as Peter pulls him close, running his nose up his neck like he so loves. He thinks back to Jennifer. How he never quite liked her and finding out just why that was from her murderer. Of how both Kate and Jennifer ruined lives because they thought themselves superior. Because they wanted to. 

He thinks how it’s already been two months yet it’s only been two months. Planning and killing and hiding a missing man in his room. He thinks of Scott and what he would think if he were to see this. Thinks of how easy it was to keep him out of this. How he barely had to lift a finger now that Scott has his little Argent. 

He thinks of the failed bite on his wrist. Of the magic thrumming through his veins. 

He thinks of Peter’s gentle hands and soothing voice. Of the fascination he gets to see directed at him…and the manic glee after every kill. How he’s managed to worm his way from a tentative friend to someone Stiles couldn’t possibly live without. He thinks of the sleeping bag under his bed, untouched for weeks now that Stiles knows Peter makes the perfect pillow. 

Stiles tears his gaze away from the corpse and finds a sort of adoration in Peter’s eyes that he could never have anticipated when they first met. When he acted on impulse and covered for a man he didn’t know. Who wormed his way into his good graces like nobody has managed so effortlessly before. It was his magic calling out, he now knows. His spark recognizing what he could not see. 

A potential mate.

Stiles smiles, turning in Peter’s arms and holding him just as reverently. He doesn’t recognize scent like wolves do but that doesn’t stop him from burying himself into Peter’s neck and inhaling. He doesn’t get much more than a mix of his conditioner and the metallic scent of blood but Peter loves it so he keeps it up for a few seconds. Peter runs his hand through his hair like he knows he loves in return, getting blood matted into it but Stiles doesn’t mind.

Stiles pulls back enough to give Peter a few chaste kisses before stepping away. He takes out the necklace he’d stolen from Allison the other day and plants it like they planned. Peter is waiting for him by the door with an outstretched hand when he’s done sprinkling some cocaine on the ground. Stiles takes it once he’s close enough and laughs light and happy when Peter leads him to the passenger’s seat of the plain car he’d stolen for tonight like the true gentleman he is. He even opens and closes the door as if this were some normal date and Stiles is hopelessly endeared despite the fact that it’s really not. 

The hunters at the edge of the yard are proof enough of that. Laying dead on the ground with pristine bullet holes through their skulls, a silenced gun bought from the same guy they got the cocaine from thrown in the backseat. 

He holds Peter’s hand over the console as he calls in an anonymous tip. They’re long gone by the time the police arrive.

 

*** 

 

They had to wait for summer break before they could leave town. In that time, Stiles convinced Scott to cover for him, and Peter and him collected as much information as they could to track the rest of the Hales down. Stiles doesn’t know how Peter managed, but he found a trail that lead from New York all the way to Indiana before it went cold. 

He’s definitely getting his hands on Peter’s contacts as soon as they have Derek back where he belongs.

Stiles did not appreciate being targeted by a death-marked Nazi any more than his alpha did. Considering the man’s reputation, Stiles thought his death was rather anticlimactic. The most exciting part had to be Victoria’s arrival and that’s not really saying much.

Stiles has been practicing his magic, to say the least.

Chris is okay, he supposes. He’s never lied, at least. And he seems to honestly believe in helping people. Even if he doesn’t help innocent supernaturals so much as not target them. Considering the rest of his family, Stiles is impressed. They have a sort of understanding, as much as it’s never been spoken. They don’t hide relevant information from each other but they don’t involve each other more than necessary either.

They tolerate each other. 

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have Scott keeping him updated on any new arrivals during their absence. Not that Scott is aware that’s what he’s doing. 

The drive to Indiana was long and uneventful. Though, they did take advantage of the opportunity to fuck as loud and as often as they pleased. Since Stiles started growing his hair out, he easily passes for eighteen and they never stay in one motel long enough to rouse suspicion anyways. Peter figures they assume Stiles is his hooker and Stiles doesn’t disagree. It doesn’t matter anyway. 

They’ve just set up camp on the edge of Illinois when they both find two separate leads that have equal chances of going somewhere useful. One can wait. The other? Not so much. 

One is from someone Peter knows has a grudge against magic users so Stiles offers to follow the other lead. Peter can’t stand the idea of Stiles meeting up with some witch alone so he makes Stiles swear to wait for him. Just a few weeks, he swore. Just a few weeks of lazing around a motel room, watching TV and studying the handful of books they brought with them. 

Stiles thought he could do it. He swore he would even as Peter bit him and claimed him as his forever. 

He was wrong. Two days later he was pacing the room, restless. He broke and met with the witch anyway. 

And then his world was pain.

 

*** 

 

Peter remembers the days before everything fell apart. Back when life was simple and threats were few and far in between. When they had a spare room for recuperating omegas while they helped find them a new pack. When Derek was small and precious and soft. Derek never looked down on him like the others did. He didn’t know all the details of his job, but he understood all the morally questionable things he did was for them. Was because he loved them and wanted them safe. Talia was so focused on her successor, her perfect daughter, that Derek was often under his care. He was the one to teach him how to hunt. How to hide and how to fight. Some lessons sunk in better than others but that was okay. He wasn’t built to fill the same role as him. 

He was always such a sweet child. He always made Peter help him heal the wounded animals he found in their woods. Peter was the one to teach him how to take another’s pain into himself when they came across a buck who was beyond help. That was also the day he taught him how to skin a deer with his claws and which bits are best raw and which are better cooked.

It was a good day and one he holds close to his heart.

That was when his love was pure and innocent. He may have felt fonder for his nephew but he gave the same amount of love and care to Cora and Laura too. It wasn’t something odd and he never questioned it. That didn’t change even when Derek started getting older and things like Paige and secret girlfriends started cutting into their afternoons digitizing their library. 

No, it wasn’t until he saw his nephew for the first time in six years that he recognized lust accompanying the affection he had for him. It wasn’t a shock so much as a new development. He doesn’t waste time with things like shame anymore. Not that he did much of that before either. 

He is mated to a seventeen-year-old after all. 

But, while he’s never made it a habit to deny himself things that he wants, he does have his own personal moral code and betraying his beautiful spark is definitely at the top of the- rather short- list of things he could never do. He doesn’t need to have Derek in more ways than he already does. He’s perfectly content to lay here, fingers tangled with his mate’s and his pack safe and warm. 

But he sees the way Derek looks at Stiles. Smells the repressed envy fighting to turn him bitter and Peter wonders if there isn’t a way that they could have it all. It would be risky and outright idiotic to suggest while his only permanent scar is still red and angry looking. But, if handled at the right time, with the right delicacy, they could be bound so completely that nobody would be thought wanting. 

So, he smiles when Derek vows to heal. To overcome his own scars to the best of his ability and decides to wait a few weeks, maybe a few months, for the bonds to settle and everyone to grow confident in their place, in their worth before giving hints towards something more. Re-establishing the ease in which they spent curled up surrounded by books and making room for their new addition. Maybe expand the pack while they’re at it. Nothing wrong in numbers.

Peter is thinking about places in the preserve they could build a new house and possible monuments that could be arranged when he falls asleep.

 

*** 

 

The sheriff is none the wiser when Stiles returns home. He isn’t entirely sure of the lie Scott’s managed to use to explain his absence, but his dad doesn’t so much as ask before he’s leaving for work. Maybe that hurts a little, but it works for him so he doesn’t do anything about it.

Peter left with Derek to arrange the move back to Beacon Hills so Stiles is alone when he plops into bed, exhausted from the drive. He is so lucky the Hales are actually loaded or else the gas money alone would screw him over for a month or two.

Sighing, Stiles heaves himself back up to get to work. He’s got an idea on how to reintroduce Peter to Beacon Hills but he can’t do it himself. 

Danny is able to do what he needs, he finds an hour later. He can even swear himself to secrecy, but not without sacrificing his snack money for two weeks. He can always get Peter to buy him food after he’s back anyway. 

With Danny’s help, he gets records in all the places that matter swearing up and down that Derek had Peter transferred to a special hospital in New York and that Peter has since been discharged for two weeks. Not only that, but Stiles also gets Danny to add in experimental scar treatments as well. Stiles knows keeping them from healing the way he has tires him out and that Peter hates them. No matter how much he tries to show how much they don’t bother him. 

He’s vain, but he’s his, Stiles thinks fondly. 

He emails all the necessary paperwork to Derek and keeps printed copies in a new safe under his bed. 

The next day, Stiles is watching the news. Apparently, Derek Hale had no idea his uncle had been considered missing because he’d been on an extended camping trip. Imagine his surprise to find numerous missed calls and emails when he finally returned. 

He pulls off sheepish surprisingly well on camera. Damn, he’s so adorable Stiles almost wants to believe him.

His dad walks in towards the end of Derek telling the world what Stiles told him to and says “Can you believe it? Months cut off from the outside world. Voluntarily, even.”

“Yeah.” Stiles turns around, leaning forward against the back of the couch “Apparently Peter was the one to suggest it to him in the first place. Something about Derek spending too much time in his hospital room and not enough with himself.”

“Probably compensating for the lack of time spent here. But he does have really bad timing.”

Stiles laughs because, yeah it would be pretty bad considering the amount of work the department put into finding him. Only to find his transfer papers were lost? It’s gotta suck, but better than the truth.

His dad just shakes his head and heads upstairs to sleep. 

Stiles knows by now that he won’t be back down until the smell of dinner wakes him up, so he decides to head to Scott’s for some overdue bro-time slash what the fuck did you tell everyone I was doing while I was gone. 

He said he went convention hopping over the summer. Which is cool and he so wants to do that now, but not very practical given the fact that he’s broke as fuck. 

He’s so going to do that now, though. Peter’s rich; it’ll be great.

Does that make Peter his sugar daddy? Stiles doesn’t think he’ll mind if it does. 

He spends the next day looking up any conventions he would have gone to. Both because he needs to plan next summer and for the more immediate- answering inevitable questions. 

There’s only a few weeks left of summer after that. They spent more time looking for Derek than he thought. Peter calls him every night and Stiles knows Derek is within hearing range but that doesn’t stop him from turning every other call into a form of relief. He got way to used to regular sex this summer.

As he also did to super-heated werewolves acting as personal space heaters at night. He uses both his comforters to compensate. 

Stiles finally gets to see his pack after the first day of senior year. He doesn’t waste any time driving straight to Peter and Derek’s new apartment. It’s alright. Just big enough to house them while Peter arranges more permanent housing in the preserve, but Stiles doesn’t care about that so much as the fact that he gets to hold his mate in his arms again.

It hasn’t actually been that long but it feels like it’s been forever and a half. Peter doesn’t so much as budge when Stiles literally throws himself at him. He just grins in turn while holding him up by the thighs. Derek is there to close the door after Peter carries him deeper into the apartment. Stiles is too busy sucking Peter’s tongue dry to do more than give a miniscule nod of thanks.

Distantly, Stiles hears boxes being moved and opened and generally being shuffled around, but that doesn’t stop him from spreading his legs as soon as Peter has him laying on the couch. 

Peter doesn’t seem to care either, if the way he’s kissing down his throat is any indication. He’s sucking what will become a monster hickey when he gets Stiles’ jeans undone and pushed down so he can’t spread his thighs. His boxers are next and Stiles gasps at the dual sensation of teeth at his mate’s mark and the cold air hitting his erection. Peter grins into his neck and starts spreading what little precome he has down his shaft with feather light touches that frustrate him more than anything. 

He’s bucking up to the best of his ability- which is to say, not very well at all- when Peter finally pities him enough to slide down until he’s mouthing at his head and Stiles keens, arching up into it and attempting to fuck deeper into his mate’s downright sinful mouth. 

Of course that wouldn’t do at all.

Peter pins Stiles down, forcing him still as he takes him apart one goddamn bob at a time. He doesn’t even use both hands, the lycanthropic bastard. Perfectly capable of keeping him pinned with one hand while the other fucking massages whatever part of him isn’t currently in his mouth. Stiles tugs at his hair and tries to push him down instead but to no avail. He just smirks up at him and swallows him down in one go. 

Stiles shouts as Peter swallows around him because apparently he knows how to deepthroat and is damn good at it. Not that Stiles has anyone to compare this to but he’s fairly confident that the bastard’s been holding out on him. 

Stiles can only be expected to last so long. He really can’t be blamed for shooting down Peter’s throat as soon as he starts pushing the spot right behind his balls, sending a jolt through him that he’s only managed to trigger a few times of the few times he’s fingered himself. 

Peter doesn’t miss a beat, like he expected that to be his reaction and Stiles would like to resent that but facts are facts, and the fact is, he’s got little endurance as it is. Besides, who is he to complain when he gets to see Peter swallowing his come down like it’s his job?

Peter is smug as he rises up to his knees between Stiles’ legs and Stiles doesn’t hesitate to use his newfound freedom to sit up and kiss him. He licks up his chin where a stray bit of come escaped and into his mouth. This time, he chases the bitter taste as far down as he can. Peter is rutting into the jut of his hip like he can’t be bothered to remove his own jeans or do anything other than pull Stiles as close as he can and memorize his taste. 

Stiles keeps them from falling over when Peter comes, sticking them together before the fall back to either side of the couch.

Stiles laughs because they must look ridiculous like this. Him, with his jeans half down to his knees and Peter with his hair a wreck and pants soiled. 

Derek proves him right when he snorts at them from across the room. Evidently, unpacking a box of plastic cups and plates for the kitchen that doesn’t look like it’ll be big enough for them all to be in at once.

“Dude, why did you even get this place? It’s crap.”

“It’s only temporary so why bother with more than the necessities? We’ve got more important things to be picky about.”

“Still, this place is tiny.”

“Are you complaining?” Peter stalks over to him so he’s got both his arms caging him in, a wicked gleam in his eye.

“No, definitely not.” Stiles says very very seriously because he’d never be a sarcastic little shit to his alpha. 

Never.

Stiles grins a wicked grin of his own when Peter growls and manhandles him over his shoulder, bringing him deeper into the apartment. Stiles laughs, notices how very gropable that ass is in this position, and gropes to his heart’s content until he’s dropped onto a bathroom counter. Half his ass in the sink and he laughs again because “Even your bathroom is tiny, my gods.”

He’s quickly drowned out by steaming water beating down and Peter stripping him down. Stiles has enough time to adjust to the hot water before a very naked, very wet Peter Hale is crowding him against the shower wall and yes, Stiles likes this very much.

Seriously, he should just be naked all the time, Stiles has decided.

“You should be naked, like, all the time.” Stiles says in between biting kisses that are more playful than rough.

Peter nips down his jawline and starts sucking a mark right behind his left ear, and murmurs “Make it a bit difficult”- he bites at the lobe- “to take you out.”

“Fuck going out.” Stiles gasps. “You can just stay here all day and I’ll come by after school every day.”

“Hmmm, and what about Derek?”

“He won’t mind. I’ll bet he’d encourage it even.”

“I’m not sure I like what you’re suggesting about my relationship with Derek. I could never cheat on you.”

Stiles gasps in mock outrage “I would never think such a thing. What do you take me for? An insecure teenager dating a rich, hot as fuck, older man?” He punctuates each adjective with a sharp thrust and Peter laughs breathlessly as he grips his ass and thrusts “You forgot murderous beast. What if I just wanted you to keep quiet?”

“Oh, you’re a beast alright. But not quite the kind you’re thinking, I’ll bet.” Stiles flips them over so that he’s the one caging Peter in and runs his nose up from his sternum to the back of his ear and inhales. “And if there is anything I’ve learned during our little road trip; it’s that you hate it when I’m quiet.”

Peter lets Stiles turn him so that he’s got both hands on the wall and Stiles wraps himself around him. One hand is steadying them by Peter’s hip, while the other is wrapped around his cock, creating a tunnel to fuck into while he fucks in between Peter’s thighs. 

They both come with a sigh this time. Lethargic and comedrunk, Stiles lazily washes Peter down. He’s pliant and sated as he is washed in turn and Stiles really has missed this.

Afterwards, they both settle down on either side of Derek on the couch. They’re both in their boxers, only Stiles also has his undershirt on.

Derek presses play on Peter’s laptop because he’s set up Netflix and is awesome. Stiles kisses his cheek in thanks and decides, no, this is what he missed.

They sit there, snuggled up together, until Stiles has to go home and make dinner.

 

*** 

 

Peter is already under the covers when Derek crawls in beside him. Peter opens his arms so that he can curl into his chest and then rearranges the blankets to his liking. Derek hasn’t been able to sleep alone since they got him back. Peter’s just glad he can sleep without Stiles next to him. Though it definitely helps that they both reek of him. It’s heaven after so long apart. 

Derek wasn’t the only one anxious leaving Stiles alone in a town housing Argents. 

Peter always thought it was silly how humans consider bed-sharing between adults an act reserved only for those fucking and/or married. Not that they slept like this before, but he still can’t imagine not holding his sweet boy like this when he’s so hurt. Can’t imagine not being right there to sooth the nightmares or to not have Derek’s scent warding off his own. 

If only Stiles were here, Peter thinks. They could surround him like they did that first night and Derek could get some proper rest. He may look fine, but his wolf blood can only keep the bags away for so long.

Peter wishes he could tell Derek that it’s okay to want them. That he knows what he walked in on because Stiles told him the one night Derek wasn’t there to listen in on their phone calls. That he doesn’t misunderstand his want for Stiles, nor does he resent it. He wants to tell him that it’s okay to want him, his uncle. Because he knows Derek’s tells like his own, even after so much time, and he knows that Derek feels something towards him but refuses to acknowledge it. Probably due to some useless human moral that he’ll have to cleanse him of. He wishes he could tell him to stop repressing his feelings for their sake but none of them are ready for it. If he fell prey to impatience now, it could ruin everything.

And he refuses to destroy what he’s worked so hard to build.

**Author's Note:**

> THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A PREQUEL. THE INFODUMPING THAT WASN'T A TEXTBOOK.
> 
> And then there was smut and feelings and progression of the story and now it's 6000 words long when it was supposed to stop at 3500. This is twice as long, okay. I was going to play sims this afternoon but new scenes kept getting written instead and then they were having sex and then Peter needed a scene with just Derek and ugh. I hope your all happy. (Like seriously, I hope your all happy with this. I really liked it.)


End file.
